


History and Maths

by koonutkalifee



Series: Subjects [1]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Established Relationship, Implied Relationships, M/M, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Teacher AU, rated for language and also implied sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 23:20:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4764767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koonutkalifee/pseuds/koonutkalifee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The biggest debate in Black Order Secondary School was who would win in a fight between Mr Kanda and Mr Walker.</p><p>Most people would have bet on Mr Kanda.</p>
            </blockquote>





	History and Maths

**Author's Note:**

> ok this is set in an english secondary school for 2 reasons: one is that the black order is in england and the other is because i was a victim of one and actually know shit about them
> 
> secondary schools are for 11-16 year olds. i don't think anything else needs clarifying but i might be wrong.

The biggest debate in Black Order Secondary School was who would win in a fight between Mr. Walker and Mr. Kanda.

The second biggest, though by quite a wide margin, was if Miss Lee and the librarian, who no one really knew the name of but everyone called Lavi, would ever stop dancing around each other and finally get their act together. But the biggest question everyone had was definitely on the topic of Mr. Walker and Mr. Kanda.

No one had ever seen them in a physical fight. There were stories, passed down from years ago when the two had first started, of a fight between them that had taken place in the central garden. It had been escalated to almost legendary proportions, twisted by time and over-zealous students, but it had definitely happened. There was still a dent in a bench.

The stories never said who had won, though. Most students would have bet on Kanda. He terrified them. He stood nearly six feet tall and it was not difficult to imagine his glare cutting someone in two.

By contrast, Walker was often dwarfed by even the girls he taught, and seemed almost fragile, especially in comparison to Kanda. But still. There was something slightly frightening about him, though anyone would hesitate to bring it up. He never took his left glove off and sometimes, when he smiled, he seemed as though he was assessing a target rather than teaching a class.

They didn’t get along.

None one still at the school had ever seen them fight, but their arguing was legendary. They had different stances on absolutely everything.

“Your class is too noisy!”

“Well at least I don’t force my students to work in silence! How could they discuss anything that way?”

The two would have been nose to nose, had Walker not been a good three inches shorter than Kanda. Kanda was clearly trying to take advantage of his height. The younger years cowered against the walls, desperately trying not to draw attention to themselves, while the older students began whispering bets.

“They don’t have to discuss things loudly enough to be heard halfway across the school, you-” and here Kanda cut into a different language, though the meaning of his words could be heard by even those who didn’t speak whichever tongue he was flinging insults in.

Walker spat something back in the same language and a vein ticked in Kanda’s forehead.

“Is that four languages we’ve heard Walker speak now?” Someone mumbled to the girl beside her.

“I thought it was five. He was speaking Spanish last week.”

Other students began chiming in, as quietly as they could. “Spanish? That makes it six then.”

“I think they’re speaking Japanese.”

“Ah, that would make sense. Mr Kanda’s Japanese, I think.”

They had switched back into English, much to everyone’s relief. “Class is about to start, you bastard! Get out of my department!”

Kanda clicked his tongue and then turned to leave, long black hair swishing behind him. Walker fumed after him for a moment before turning to the students, in various states of fear, and smiling cheerfully. “You heard me! Get to class.”

They scurried off, mumbling disappointments about how they hadn’t seen a real fight.

 

“Hey, Sir. How long have you known Mr Kanda?”

 _Eighteen years_ “I’m not sure. Why do you ask?”

The students in front of him frowned up at him. “Didn’t you start here at the same time?”

“Did you know him before then?”

“It’s just that you two are always fighting, and we wonder why.”

“Enough, enough.” Allen laughed. “Mr Kanda and I fight because we disagree a lot. Because that bastard is wrong a lot.” He muttered the last sentence as quietly as he could, but his students still heard.

Allen taught Humanities, though he specialised in History. “You guys have a test coming up soon. Surely that’s more important than mine and that id- Mr Kanda’s arguments?”

 

Unless Kanda was teaching, his class was silent.

Kanda’s voice was cold and disinterested and not particularly loud but the lectures he gave were clear and concise and easy enough to follow. Maths was a universally hated subject and Kanda was a universally feared teacher but his students rarely failed and never got lower marks than they deserved.

Often his students overlapped with Walker’s and they burned with questions, about why the two fought so much and over so little, but none dared ask Kanda. Often they didn’t even dare to ask Walker.

 

“I don’t get it.”

“What don’t you get?”

It was raining and the cold, heavy, endless rain thundered down onto the roof and against the windows and in past the doors.

“Mr Walker and Mr Kanda. They don’t make sense.”

“Huh?”

Chairs squeaked and rubbish flew and teachers wandered about, telling students to sit down and stop yelling and pick up their rubbish. There was never enough room for everyone to eat inside when it rained.

“Mr Walker is so kind to everyone, even Mr Mikk. Everyone likes him apart from Mr Kanda. And Mr Kanda doesn’t react to anything ever. He’s just sort of disgusted all the time.”

“I wonder what happened in their past.”

“So you reckon they did know each other?”

The clock on the wall stared silently down, and it was time for class again.

 

“Hey, Sir. Are you married?”

Allen choked on a laugh. “No. Why do you ask?” How his students would react if they found out the truth. Some days he considered telling them, just to see their faces, though he wasn’t sure that Kanda would approve.

“Just wondering.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m thirty-two.”

“No way! You barely look older than some of the people here!”

“Oh dear.” Allen scratched his head and smiled helplessly. “You didn’t actually think I was sixteen, did you?” Allen shook his head. “Has everyone finished? No? Then no more talking.”

 

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I asked first.”

Kanda had a black eye and Allen a split lip. Allen would try diplomacy again, despite its failing last time.

“I’m Allen Walker. You are?”

“Kanda.” The word was spat out like Kanda hated the fact he had to tell Allen, and Allen smiled at him angelically. It had somewhat lost its effect once he had hit his teens but Allen still looked to be twelve and knew his smile would work on some people.

Not Kanda.

“The fuck do you even want?” Kanda was nearly six feet tall and eighteen years old and Allen was barely fifteen and didn’t even come up to his chin and Allen wasn’t even slightly afraid of Kanda.

“Apparently, you know someone Mr Cross knows. Mr Tiedoll?”

“Yeah, so?”

“I’m supposed to give Mr Tiedoll this.” Allen held up a bag he hadn’t dared to look into and stared up at Kanda. Kanda refused to admit he was impressed at the shrimp – most adults had been terrified of him since he was thirteen. “Where is he?”

“Come with me.” Kanda said something in a language Allen didn’t know – and Allen knew eight languages and could make conversation in three more – and turned around.

“What did you just call me?” Allen cursed at Kanda’s back. “What language even was that?”

“We’re in Japan, and you don’t even know what Japanese sounds like? You really are an idiot.” Allen narrowed his eyes. He hadn’t known he was travelling to Japan.

“Mr Cross never tells me anything,” Allen wailed, and Kanda glared back at him.

“Shut up. You’re annoying.”

“You’re annoying.”

“You wanna fight?” And there was that word again, the Japanese word Allen didn’t know.

“The fuck are you even calling me?”

 

“Would you quit calling me beansprout? I’m thirty-two!”

“Really? You still look fifteen.”

Yelling in languages their students didn’t know in front of said students was unprofessional and embarrassing but at least it meant the students weren’t aware of how bad the language they used was.

“Why are you always in the humanities department anyway? I know maths is a waste of time, but don’t you have other people to annoy?”

“The reprographics room is through here, idiot. Now get out of my fucking way, I’ve got work to do.”

Walker rolled his eyes and Kanda strode past him, coat flapping as he walked. “Come in. Class is starting.”

“I don’t get how you do it,” one of his students mumbled. “Mr Kanda is so scary.”

“Mr Kanda isn’t scary.” Walker smiled reassuringly.

“Yeah, but are you scared of anything sir?”

After living with Cross for four years, Walker wasn’t afraid of anything on Earth, apart from maybe bills.

 

“How come I keep running into you, idiot beansprout?”

“I am not a beansprout! I’m barely shorter than you.”

Allen was seventeen and slightly taller than he’d been two years ago and he’d somehow mastered Japanese in the short time since he’d last seen Kanda. Kanda wasn’t going to admit he was impressed.

“I’ll cut you into pieces.”

The two fumed at each other for a few moments, and then Kanda tossed his head. “Whatever. Why are you here?”

“No particular reason.”

Allen sat down on the bench next to Kanda and pulled a book from one of his pockets. He was as far from Kanda as the bench would allow but it still pissed Kanda off.

“Why are you sitting next to me?”

The sword that Kanda carried everywhere and Allen wasn’t totally convinced was legal was propped on the bench between them. Allen didn’t even glance at it. “I like this bench. Is carrying a sword legal in Venezuela?”

“No.” Kanda gave up. It was pointless trying to ask Allen questions on something he didn’t want to answer. Kanda hated to admit it but Allen was probably more stubborn than he was.

Allen hated to admit to the fact that it wasn’t the bench he liked, but Kanda. Kanda was annoying and rude and blunt and probably very very dangerous but still Allen liked him, in his own, twisted way.

 

“Why are you here, beansprout?”

Allen was twenty-four and Kanda twenty-seven when they first started teaching at Black Order Secondary School.

“I work here. Why are you here, bastard?”

“I work here too.”

Kanda slammed a fist into the nearest object and Allen started laughing, though it was somewhat pained. “Cross knows Komui. Tiedoll knows Cross. Of course Tiedoll knows Komui. He told you to come work here, right?”

“Yeah.” Kanda glared at Allen. “You sure this is a good idea?”

“We just don’t tell anyone, you idiot.”

“Well it’s not like anyone will assume we’re together, is it now?”

People were watching, through wide eyes and windows. Kanda and Walker were all but shouting at each other in something other than English and Kanda had just punched a bench in what seemed like anger.

“I think it’s Japanese,”

“I guess that would make sense,”

“I didn’t know Mr Walker or Mr Kanda spoke another language.”

“I think they both travelled a lot.”

 

“Oi, beansprout.”

“It’s Allen.”

“What does your hand look like?”

Allen took his jacket off. Kanda looked away. “Like this.”

He had rolled the sleeve of his white shirt up to the elbow and taken off the glove. The skin was red and cracked and deformed. Kanda looked at it, as unimpressed as ever.

“I see.”

His fingers twitched as though he wanted to reach out and touch the strange skin and Allen laughed at him, only a little unkindly.

“Curious?” He held the hand out and Kanda grabbed it, fingertips pressing into the hard skin. It didn’t feel much different to his own, calloused, hand.

Allen was nineteen and Kanda was twenty-two the first time they kissed, with Kanda’s hand clutching Allen’s and with nothing but the wind to witness that it happened.

“Why is it like that?” Kanda was as blunt as he ever was and Allen was relieved. Even Cross had been a little bit disgusted.

“Dunno. S’been like this since I can remember. Mana took me to a doctor when I was a little kid but he didn’t know what it was. But I don’t think it’s dangerous.”

 

“Really Allen. I wish you wouldn’t fight with Kanda so often. It’s not professional!” Lenalee sat opposite him in the too-small staffroom and glared at him and Allen smiled sheepishly back.

“Sorry, Lenalee.” Allen put his mug on the table and picked up his timetable. “We can’t help it.”

“You’ve been friends for how long now? Longer than I’ve known either of you, anyway. You shouldn’t fight so often.”

Allen snorted. “Friends.”

Lenalee rolled her eyes. There were two people that knew about Allen Walker and Kanda Yuu, knew about them as more than the two teachers who hated each other, and Lenalee was one of them. “Why are you both so difficult about it?” She muttered to no one and stood up. Allen laughed nervously and hid behind his timetable.

 

They hadn’t changed sleeping positions for eleven years.

It had been in an unknown state somewhere in America, the first time they’d actually _slept_ together. Allen had latched onto Kanda and refused to let go and Kanda was too tired and too comfortable to fight him off. Allen had been twenty-one and Kanda twenty-four.

(They had first had sex when Allen was twenty and Kanda twenty-three. It had been slightly uncomfortable and one of the best memories either of them had.

They hadn’t seen each other for three months after that. Neither minded. When they had seen each other again Kanda had pointed his sword at him and Allen had kicked the sword out of his hands and tried to punch him.)

And at four o’clock in morning the two were wound together on a single bed in some seedy roadside motel and neither of them was asleep, though they were pretending that they were. The sheets were pulled up to their waists and various items of clothing lay around the room, some more damaged than others, and the only sound was soft breathing and the cars droning past outside.

When they woke up the next morning, Kanda had buried his hand in Allen’s hair and Allen’s lips were pressed to Kanda’s chest. They didn’t comment on this.

“You’re heavy,” Kanda snapped one day, and Allen barked a laugh.

“You’re practically using me as a teddy bear here, Kanda.” Kanda’s arm was slung across Allen’s waist and his hand was in his hair and Allen’s limbs were locked around Kanda. It wasn’t always comfortable. Neither cared.

 

“Get out of my department, bastard,” Allen yelled in English and the students around him looked away. Kanda had no students near him.

“Do you think I come here for the fun of it, _beansprout_?” Kanda gritted out, mostly in English, and stormed past Allen. Allen hissed something in Japanese and Kanda twitched slightly, not enough to be noticed, and carried on.

“What do you two even say to each other in other languages?” One student eventually mustered the courage to ask, and Allen smiled cheerfully.

“Nothing important. Nothing that you guys need to know about. Does anyone need to use this room?” He had asked Kanda to get the shopping after he finished early. The students scattered, and Allen waved to them. They probably thought they’d been swearing at each other. It wasn’t unlikely.

 

“You know some students asked me why you hate Yuu so much the other day.” Lavi put his drink down and grinned. “Why should I know?”

“Well, you are the only person who calls Kanda _Yuu_ ,” Lenalee murmured into her cup. She was drowned out by Kanda.

“What are you doing in my house?”

“I live here, bastard.” Allen growled, and Lenalee sighed.

“Allen invited us!” Lavi smiled, cheery as ever, and Kanda scowled at all of them. “But really. Why can’t you and Yuu get along better? At least at school?”

The glare he got from both Allen and Kanda was enough to make him shrink in his seat.

“I got asked the same question last week,” Lenalee chimed in. “I said you two didn’t get along very well because you were so similar.”

Allen spat his drink back into his cup and Kanda fell over from where he was leant against the doorway. Lavi choked on air, coughing and spluttering he was laughing so hard, and Lenalee smiled innocently. “Was I not supposed to say that?”

“Get out of my house,” Kanda muttered to no one in particular, and slumped onto the chair opposite Lenalee’s.

 

“You know, I think Mr Kanda and Mr Walker have a thing.”

“You mean a thing? Or a _thing_?”

“No, a _thing._ ”

It was summer again, and the field behind the school was big enough that the students could sit in their small groups far from each other, far enough not to be overheard.

“God, but why?”

“That was not an image I needed.”

“Why do you think that though?”

“Look at them.”

There was a black blur and a white blur, for once standing peacefully together at the other end of the field.

“They’re very close together.”

“But they argue so much!”

Kanda never let anyone near him. And Walker was very, very close. Or maybe it was just how far away they were.

“No way.”

“You’re completely wrong there.”

“It’s just not possible.”

The half-dozen students all stared at the two teachers, far enough that they were featureless and indistinct and there was no chance of them being caught staring, and frowned.

 _No_ they decided. _That wouldn’t make sense._

**Author's Note:**

> idk if i'm happy with this but it's been open for months and i'm sick of looking at it
> 
> *ignores all the unexplained plot points* this is fine
> 
> i fucking love yullen


End file.
